London Bridge is Falling Down
by Stew Pid
Summary: It's spring time in Stars Hollow, and new things are happening. How will they react? Rating's just to be safe.
1. Falling Down, Falling Down

By Stew Pid

Rating: Should be okay.

Disclaimer: I only own the Stew Pid stuff.

A/N: Okay. I'm experimenting with different forms of fic and this was a new idea I had. It's not really my style so I don't know if I pulled it off, but I hope you like it. 

It is a lovely Spring evening in Stars Hollow, as Lorelai and Rory walk to the town meeting. Stars Hollow is bustling with upcoming activities. Signs mark numerous Spring festivities and the upcoming Commencement Ceremonies.

"Don't you just love the Spring, and hate it at the same time?" Lorelai muses. "I mean, it's a time of new beginnings and all, but that means everything changes."

"Change can be good, though, once you get used to it."

"Yeah, well that means it's good for you. This year you've had to get used to change. The only change I've known thus far is when your grandmother changes the flowers or when Sookie changes the menus. And come to think of it, that's not really a change because Sookie is always changing the menu so it's just the usual to me. Now I'm being hit with this _big_ change. I mean, you're graduating, going off to college, which is great, don't get me wrong, but…"

"But I'm going to Yale so I can always drop by. I can visit on a Wednesday even if I have a Thursday morning class. It won't be that bad. I'll visit so much you won't even know I was gone."

"But whose bed will I sneak to when the termites come back?"

"You can still come to mine. You just have to drive to it."

"I'm going to miss you."

"You won't know I'm gone."

"You're right. I'll get a hologram of you, or maybe a mannequin that looks like you. Oh, and maybe it could happen like in the movie and the mannequin becomes human. It'd be a Rory clone. But in case that doesn't happen, we'll have to start recording things you usually say on tapes."

"You're impossible."

"Yeah, that's one of them. We'll have to get that on tape."

Lorelai and Rory are about to enter for the meeting. Rory sees Dean as she enters, and both smile awkwardly and look the other way. The only seats left are next to Dean's new girlfriend and Luke, who looks particularly cold and hostile. 

"So do we want the eighth circle of hell or the ninth," Lorelai whispers to Rory.

Taylor stops in the middle of his speech to address the Gilmores.

"Since you two are physically unable to make it here on time, you can at least have the courtesy to come in quietly and immediately sit down."

"Right," Lorelai replies and sits immediately next to Luke.

"Okay," Taylor resumes, "so since the majority of people (shooting a resolute stare at Luke) voted 'ay,' we're going through with it."

"Hold up," Lorelai says, raising her hand. "We didn't get to vote. What are we voting on? (whispers to Rory, smiling goofily) We could be the ones to turn this election over. Don't you feel powerful?"

"Well, your vote won't matter much, (Lorelai and Rory pout, then look at each other and shrug) but it's only fair. Anyway, I'm sure the two of you would be very enthused to hear that it has recently been discovered that some of the finest patriots of the American Revolution are buried here in Stars Hollow."

"Really? That's so cool. Stars Hollow is historic," Rory beams.

"I knew that would interest you, Rory. See, a journal of one of the Revolution's soldiers was found where he states that his comrades' bodies had to be dumped into the lake and he mourns the fact that they were denied a hero's burial. Now, the Historical Institute of Connecticut informed me of this and they would like to build a monument for these heroes right here in Stars Hallow over our very own lake. At last, over 200 years later, they will have their burial. And of course this is going to be a grand tourist attraction. It can only mean great things for Stars Hollow. I don't see why anyone would object. One would have to be an unpatriotic, bitter, hateful man (he once again looks at Luke) to object."

"I take it you objected," Lorelai says to Luke.

"You're damn right I did. This is ridiculous."

"Don't start again, Luke."

"Wait. You mean the lake's not going to be there anymore?" Rory questions, dumbfounded.

"Well, no. But think of what will be there in its place. Now I spoke to the director of the operations and the wildlife will not be left homeless. He's going to get some people over to collect them and relocate them. It's all very clean, very proper."

"But the lake, and the bridge…" she persists mournfully.

"Rory, I'm surprised at you. This is history we're talking about, and you're carrying on about a lake? Luke, what did you do to her?" Taylor points his gavel accusingly at Luke. 

"I didn't do anything. She's obviously the one person in this town who has any sense. Some quacks read in an old journal something about bodies being thrown in a lake and now they're going to start turning everything upside down. Number one, you can't even be sure that it's the right lake, and number two, it's been over town hundred years. Whatever the fish didn't eat decomposed a long time ago. So why we're going to start changing everything to build some memorial over a clump of algae is beyond me. And don't think I don't know where your aim is, Taylor. This has nothing to do with patriotism. This is all about tourism. Pretty soon this won't be a residential town anymore. It'll be one big mall of collectible plates and porcelain unicorns next to a huge fancy plaque or statue marking the spot of an amoeba farm."

"You know what your problem is…"

"He watches too much of the Discovery channel?" Lorelai interjects.

"Excuse me," Rory tries to break in, "but couldn't there be a way to construct some memorial without destroying the lake. Maybe just put up a plaque that says, 'Here rest…"

"The bacteria that ate the bodies of great heroes of the American Revolution," Lorelai finishes.

"Rory, the whole purpose of the monument is that it should be a final burial. They want to cover up the lake. They're even going to put an inscription with the quote from the journal where the soldier laments his comrades' lack of burial."

"You know, some people get totally incinerated in wars, their ashes scattered about the earth. Why don't we just put plaques all over, cover up the oceans?" Luke continues his protest.

"He watches the History Channel, too," Lorelai quips. 

At this point, Bootsy stands up, "You know, I think it's a disgrace that you have no respect for war heroes. Would _you_ give up your life for your country? When I was in 'Nam…"

"You were never in 'Nam."

"Well, neither were you."

"So what's your point?"

"My point is that since I never fought for my country, I at least appreciate those that do. I give discounts on Memorial Day and Veteran's Day. What do you do?"

"I laugh at the people who think you gave them a discount."

Taylor pounds his gavel, "Now gentlemen, stop this. There's no need for this to continue. The matter has already been decided."

"All right, Taylor," Luke resigns, but not quite, "but I'll tell you what hasn't been decided. What happens to all that 'Save the Bridge' money you've collected. People have paid to maintain that bridge and now you are agreeing to destroy it. What are you doing with that money?"

"I'm donating it to the cause."

"You're putting the 'Save the Bridge' money towards the demolition of the bridge? That makes sense. Now you who supposedly care so much about the community of Stars Hollow, don't you think you should have asked the people who paid money to '_save_' the bridge what they wanted to do with the money now?"

"As I recall, Luke, you have never given anything towards the 'Save the Bridge' fund."

"That's not the point, Taylor."

"All right. Does anyone who _has_ given money to this fund object to it being used towards the cause? If so, raise your hand."

Lorelai raises her hand.

"Lorelai, you have never given anything to the fund."

"I dropped a penny in there once."

"I'll refund you your penny."

"Thank you."

"So that's it. This meeting is adjourned."


	2. London Bridge Is...

By Stew Pid

Rating: Should be okay.

Disclaimer: I only own the Stew Pid stuff.

A/N: Okay. I'm experimenting with different forms of fic and this was a new idea I had. It's not really my style so I don't know if I pulled it off, but I hope you like it.

After the town meeting, Lorelai goes to taunt Luke about the Discovery and History Channels. Rory decides to take a walk, not realizing she already knows where she's going. Jess was already there. She approaches timidly, feeling an acute sense of irreverence in her intrusion, like reading someone else's journal or disrupting a man in prayer. This place was his sanctuary, she knew. She could sense his thoughts in the air, but she couldn't identify a single one. Does he already know? How does he feel? Maybe he needs time alone. She is about to turn back when the bridge creaks under her feet and he turns around.

"Sorry," she whispers nervously.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I don't want to disturb you."

"Oh. I thought maybe you didn't want to wake the dead."

He knew.

"So you heard."

"I think they heard in Hartford. Luke and Taylor really had it out."

"I hear it was even worse before we got there. We came after the vote. So you're okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be? It's not my bridge. Not like I'm losing money or anything."

"Yeah, but this is the only place in Stars Hollow you like. There're a lot of memories here."

"It's just a bridge. Here."

He hands her a book.

"_The Iron Heel_."

"If you want to read a nut, read that one. Not Ayn Rand."

She knew he was remembering. That was their first memory here. They had many. After her break up with Dean, they would spend many hours talking there together, or reading, or just sitting in silence, thinking together. She looks around the lake for the spot of their first and only kiss. She never liked to think about it, but today the memory came over her like a flood and spilled over into the lake and produced ripples in the water that pointed to the exact spot where it happened.

"Well, London is better than Hemingway, I guess," she teased purposefully. He smirks and kicked some water at her feet. She smiles and they return to contented silence, looking over the lake.

"Life can be so unpredictable," Rory muses.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, just a few months ago, I thought the changes I'd be looking at right now would be going to Harvard, having to leave my mom, and Dean, and I guess Stars Hollow in general behind. But then, I thought, I'd come home and visit and everything here would be the same. Turns out I'm not making such a big move, but everything here is going to be different."

"Just the lake will be missing. What's the big deal?"

She's surprised at him, but recovers and continues.

"It is a big deal. Stars Hollow will look different. There'll be a lot of new people here. New things mark the end of old things. Everything changes."

"Or nothing changes."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing changes. The town is what it is. And people are predictable. Everything's predictable. Pretty soon a routine starts up again and everything falls back into the flow and it all looks the same again. Nothing really changes."

"So you're telling me that a few months ago you knew you'd be where you're at this very moment?"

Jess looks at her for a long moment, and she lowers her head in discomfort. Realizing this, he looks out again over the lake.

"Yup."

"So I guess you have life, people, the world, metaphysics all figured out."

"Pretty much."

"Well, you're lucky then."

He looks at her again but she is looking down at her feet. Once again he returns his gaze to the lake. 

"I'd better go. My mom is probably waiting for me. We're watching _Singing in the Rain _tonight."

"Have fun."

"Yeah. Bye."

She hurries away. Jess watches her go and looks forward again taking a deep breath. He senses in the air he breathes his thoughts, his memories, and the faint, dying scent of her presence. He looks over to the place beside him where just moments ago she was seated. The book is still there. Apparently, she had forgotten it. He picks it up, stands, and heads back to Luke's. 


	3. Falling Down

By Stew Pid

Rating: Should be okay.

Disclaimer: I only own the Stew Pid stuff.

A/N: Okay. I'm experimenting with different forms of fic and this was a new idea I had. It's not really my style so I don't know if I pulled it off, but I hope you like it.

Lorelai and Rory sit together on the front steps looking out on the night after watching sappy classic movies, those movies of graceful romance, eternal love, and happiness that, once attained by the close of the film, will last forever. Those are the movies that, after the warm, dreamy feeling has subsided and consciousness of reality returns, produce a sense of melancholy. Lorelai and Rory rest their heads on each other.

"Is it really the end?" Lorelai breaks the silence.

"I can't really say, but I like to think the earth's still got a few billion years left."

"No, I mean the movie."

"Still don't know what you mean."

"What if Cathy gets that part as Zelda's kid sister and some guy named Jack, playing Zelda's boyfriend or something, decides he's going to get Cathy. Don becomes jealous because he notices Jack's advances and he harasses Cathy so much that she decides to give him a reason to and has an affair with Jack. Cosmo catches them fooling around one day behind one of the sets and he goes and tells Don. Don can't believe Cosmo would accuse Cathy of something like that and he in turn accuses Cosmo of loving Cathy. Cosmo admits that he did but swears he isn't lying and Don punches Cosmo for admitting to the accusation. Right there, the best friends are no more. The girl that plays Zelda busts Cathy too and tells not only Don, but Lina Lamont. Now Don is upset but he doesn't want to have to divorce Cathy because they never signed a prenuptial agreement, not to mention all the bad publicity, so he gives in to Lina, who since she heard the news has been chasing him like a dog in heat. Lina talks to the tabloids about everything and Cathy gets upset. Don and Cathy have a huge argument and decide they are going to deny the allegations made on both of them and remain married for convenience but there's no love and when they look at each other their stomachs turn. In the end you have two people alone, without love, without friends."

"And then with the Depression no one can afford to go see Lockwood and Lockwood, and no one wants to anyway because they've lost their chemistry, and Don and Cathy even lose the money that was the only thing holding their marriage legally together. Cathy becomes some old has-been movie star smoking cigarettes in a cramped apartment watching old videos from when she was beautiful. And Don sits in a park playing Chess by himself joking with Cosmo who died two years ago, having never seen Don since the fight." 

"So much for 'singing and dancing in the rain.'"

"You know, I think our version of the story could be a bigger hit than the actual movie."

"What could we call it?"

"The Last Song in the Rain."

"Ooh, that's nice. I knew there was a reason I agreed to Friday night dinners in Hartford."

"To every cloud there's a silver lining."

"But not in our movie, babe."

"No. Not in our movie."

"Ours is going to be realistic."

"But is it?"

"Well, we'll have to work out the anachronisms if we don't want Paris on our backs. I don't think VHS cassettes have been invented by the time Cathy's smoking in her cramped apartment."

"No, I mean, do you really think there is no true and lasting love, practically speaking?"

"Hmm. I think that practically speaking, nothing lasts."

Rory drops her head in silence, thinking of the bridge and the decomposed war heroes at the bottom of the lake.

"But I also think there's nothing very practical about love. How's that for you, kiddo?"

Now Rory looks up pensively.

"I don't know."

"You're thinking about Dean, aren't you?"

She doesn't answer.

"Look, just because you two broke up doesn't mean it wasn't love. First of all, it might still last. No one ever said anything about breaks in between. And if not, well it just wasn't that lasting love."

"Too practical, huh?" Rory smiles.

"Well, you gotta admit, he was very useful around the house."

They laugh and spell of the classic romance movie is broken.

A/N: I know this was a weird chapter, but it's supposed to work later. I hope it does.


	4. My Fair Lady

By Stew Pid

Rating: Should be okay.

Disclaimer: I only own the Stew Pid stuff.

A/N: Okay. I'm experimenting with different forms of fic and this was a new idea I had. It's not really my style so I don't know if I pulled it off, but I hope you like it.

The next day Rory waits for Lorelai in the diner, accompanied by Jess. They're doing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper.

"Okay, a seven letter word, starts with an 'a,' for 'fun,'" she inquires of Jess.

"Alcohol."

She rolls her eyes, not impressed.

"An adjective."

"Well, you didn't say that before. Amusing."

"That is correct." 

"You realize these are stupid."

"They're supposed to be intellectually stimulating."

"Don't tell me you're one of those people who eats fish every day and listens to classical music while doing crossword puzzles because a bunch of crack-pot doctors say that stuff makes you smarter."

"Let's see. I ate fish sticks on Tuesday and was listening to Falco on Thursday, you know, 'Rock Me, Amadeus' and all. Now today I'm doing this crossword puzzle, so I guess my IQ has jumped up about a quarter of a notch."

"Well then, I guess you don't need my help."

"Guess I don't."

Jess watches, smiling to himself, as she buries herself in the crossword puzzle.

"How do you like _The Iron Heel_?" he asks, smirking.

"Um, I haven't started it yet."

"Why not?"

"Um, I've been busy. End of the school year and all. And then there're these crossword puzzles."

"Very time consuming."

"Some of them, yeah."

Jess pulls the book out of his book bag and tosses it in front of her. She smiles sheepishly and takes it.

"I thought I had lost it. I was going to pick it up again at the bookstore, but it wouldn't have had your notes."

"Well, this time I pretty much let London's words do the talking. He says it better than I ever could."

"I've never heard you praise even Hemingway like that."

"I wouldn't call it praise. I mean, I did say he's a nut, but a readable nut."

"I'll read it tonight."

"Good. Well, I better get back to work."

Lorelai comes into the diner carrying a bunch of magazines. She wears a surreptitious smile on her face and Rory watches her curiously.

"Hey, babe. How was school?"

"Uneventful. What is going on with you?"

"Nothing. We were doing some Spring cleaning in the Inn. We had a whole bunch of old magazines. I can't believe the guests don't take these things."

"I know. What do you have?"

She takes the stack of magazines. 

"Now I know why they don't take them."

"But we would take anyway."

"We're kleptomaniacs."

"You think so?"

"Why else would you steal National Geographic magazines? You don't even read nutrition labels because they're educational. These are just going to sit in the top shelf of the closet until we both die and someone else has to clean out our house."

"Silly. I didn't steal them for us. They're for Luke."

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"Never. Come on, amoeba farm?"

They both giggle.

It is later that evening. Rory finishes the last of her homework. She puts her books in her bag, laces her fingers and stretches out her arms, yawning. Picking up _The Iron Heel, _she walks over to her stereo and punches the play button. She waits for the Falco CD to start and smiles, settling into her bed with the book. Upon opening, Jess' familiar handwriting greets her immediately. He has not written notes, however, but _a_ note:

__

Rory, London says it better than I ever could. 

'Did I say that the human might be filed in categories? Well, and if I did, let me qualify -- not all humans. You elude me. I cannot place you, cannot grasp you. I may boast that of nine out of ten, under given circumstances, I can forecast their action; that of nine out of ten, by their word or action, I may feel the pulse of their hearts. But of the tenth I despair. It is beyond me. You are that tenth.

Were ever two souls, with dumb lips, more incongruously matched! We may feel in common -- surely, we oftimes do -- and when we do not feel in common, yet do we understand; and yet we have no common tongue. Spoken words do not come to us. We are unintelligible. God must laugh at the mummery.  
The one gleam of sanity through it all is that we are both large temperamentally, large enough to often understand. True, we often understand but in vague glimmering ways, by dim perceptions, like ghosts, which, while we doubt, haunt us with their truth. And still, I, for one, dare not believe; for you are that tenth which I may not forecast.  
Am I unintelligible now? I do not know. I imagine so. I cannot find the common tongue.  
Large temperamentally -- that is it. It is the one thing that brings us at all in touch. We have, flashed through us, you and I, each a bit of universal, and so we draw together. And yet we are so different.  
I smile at you when you grow enthusiastic? It is a forgivable smile -- nay, almost an envious smile. I have lived twenty-five years {in my case, seventeen} of repression. I learned not to be enthusiastic. It is a hard lesson to forget. I begin to forget, but it is so little. At the best, before I die, I cannot hope to forget all or most. I can exult, now that I am learning, in little things, in other things; but of my things, and secret things doubly mine, I cannot, I cannot. Do I make myself intelligible? Do you hear my voice? I fear not. There are poseurs. I am the most successful of them all.  
Jack {and Jess}

A rush of warmth blankets Rory's skin, yet she shivers. Why did he put that it? What was she going to do? What was she supposed to say? Worries send her off to sleep and memories of the lake dance in her dreams.


	5. Stone So Strong Will Last So Long

By Stew Pid

Rating: Should be okay.

Disclaimer: I only own the Stew Pid stuff.

A/N: Okay. I'm experimenting with different forms of fic and this was a new idea I had. It's not really my style so I don't know if I pulled it off, but I hope you like it.

She watches him from a distance, trying to work the nerve to approach the bridge. He senses she is somewhere near, but he doesn't look for her. He'll wait. He's waited all this time, he's gotten quite used to it. 

She puts on her mother's shoe sale face, and walks forward firmly, clutching the books with both hands crossed over her chest. She's right behind him, but she cannot find the words to speak. He used London's words. Where would she find hers? She sticks out the book.

"What was this about?"

He turns around and looks at her.

"You understand Ayn Rand and you're telling me you can't understand London?"

"I mean the note."

"Also London."

"But…I…I…"

He stands up, looking her straight in the eye.

"Rory, you don't have to say anything. It's okay. I just needed you to know how I felt. I already know how you feel now."

_Did he_, she thought to herself. How? She couldn't find the words. She searched her mind for them but all that raced in there were memories of the bridge. Finally, _the_ memory, the memory she fought so often, came to her and she opened the floodgates and let it pour forth. She kissed him, and in that kiss were all her words. He understood and kissed her back expressing all the things even London could not.

They pull apart, not knowing what to do with their eyes now, so they turned them to the lake. 

"They start working in two weeks," Rory finally says.

"Yup."

"This is all going to be gone."

"Hmm."

Jess pulls out a Swiss knife from his pocket and bends down on the bridge. He digs between the planks and pulls out a small stone. 

"Here," he hands her the stone.

"What's this for?"

"Throw it."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I figured it'd make you feel better. That way when the bridge and lake are gone, you'll know the rock is still under there. I don't know. I guess it's stupid."

She throws the rock into the lake.

"I do feel better."

"Yeah. Me too."

The End.

A/N: Too corny? Sappy? Stupid? I told you, this was not my style. If this story bitterly disappoints and you don't understand what I was trying to do read next author's note for further information. 


	6. Author's Note

The long A/N:

Okay, those of you who might have read my first fic, "Season 3 as Ihave it" may wonder if I have an obsession with Jack London. I do. He's the author I love to hate and hate to love, but I do. The "note" in the story is his "love" letter to Anna (he supposedly didn't believe in love, but you always have to question his credibility). I know in the real GG neither Rory nor Jess have expressed anything by way or appreciation or even hatred for London, but the letter and some things I know about his life, lead me to sort of connect him with Jess. In the letter, Jack and Anna seem to typify in my mind Rory and Jess. I have taken great liberties with this story, but whatever.

Okay, I tend to feel that when you have to explain your stories you didn't do a good job, but I feel the need to explain this one a little. It wasn't supposed to be a corny, sappy, romantic story. I like to write what I call life stories and I was thinking the other day, perhaps because I reread Virginia Woolf's _To the Lighthouse_, about reality and dreams and what lasts. In fairy tale movies, love lasts. I was asking if it did in the concrete reality. Nothing concrete lasts. But memories last, and true love (not just romantic), ultimately, lasts. I tried to express that in the story. Rory mentions humorously about her and Lorelai dying. They won't last, but they will to each other. Jess and Rory, in my story, may last. It's implied that they'll last. Even Lorelai and Luke. I usually like to include hints of them. The hints in this story were much more subtle, but I tried, with the poking fun, to show something of them that will last. That's what I was trying to do. But I was working in a style not my own, so I wasn't so successful. 

London Bridge is Falling Down, I thought, would be perfect. Every word connects with the story. Jack London. The Bridge. Things perishing "falling down" and lasting "last so long".

I'll include the lyrics for your enjoyment: 

London Bridge is falling down, 

Falling down, 

Falling down.  
London Bridge is falling down, 

My fair lady.  
Take a key and lock her up, 

Lock her up, 

Lock her up.  
Take a key and lock her up, 

My fair lady.  
How will we build it up, 

Build it up, 

Build it up?  
How will we build it up, 

My fair lady?  
Build it up with silver and gold, 

Silver and gold, 

Silver and gold.  
Build it up with silver and gold, 

My fair lady.  
Gold and silver I have none, 

I have none, 

I have none.  
Gold and silver I have none, 

My fair lady.  
Build it up with needles and pins, 

Needles and pins, 

Needles and pins.  
Build it up with needles and pins, 

My fair lady.  
Pins and needles bend and break, 

Bend and break, 

Bend and break.  
Pins and needles bend and break, 

My fair lady.  
Build it up with wood and clay, 

Wood and clay, 

Wood and clay.  
Build it up with wood and clay, 

My fair lady.  
Wood and clay will wash away, 

Wash away, 

Wash away.  
Wood and clay will wash away, 

My fair lady.  
Build it up with stone so strong, 

Stone so strong, 

Stone so strong.  
Build it up with stone so strong, 

My fair lady.  
Stone so strong will last so long, 

Last so long, 

Last so long.  
Stone so strong will last so long, 

My fair lady.   



End file.
